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February 2017

At Home

Good Reading: Uninvited

I was recently part of a book club that chose a book about something I think we all experience but don’t like to talk about: rejection.

You know, those moments when people or situations make us feel small, unworthy or less than. In my own life, I’ve experienced rejection in lots of forms, and many of those experiences, I can still recall pretty vividly — the seemingly small moments of being excluded from a group of girls on the playground when I was eight-years-old, or finding out my 13-year-old crush liked somebody else. The times of not getting a job my heart was set on. The times of wondering if the person I want to impress really likes me. Moments of friends calling attention to my flaws. Moments of people dismissing me because of my gender or skin color or hair texture or speech pattern or beliefs. Moments of wanting my dad to love me in ways he wasn’t able to.  Continue Reading


The Mixtape // 02.10.17

Happy Friday, friends! Jordan and I are just returning from an amazing week in Cape Town, South Africa. That means there are a ton of highlights from the past week, but it will take me a few days to edit my photos and share everything. Look out for all of the details next week.

For now, we’re excited to be back home with Jameson, and here are a few things worth sharing…

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Jameson at 21 Months

Since the time when he was old enough to eat solids, we’ve been giving Jameson these little pouches of puréed mixed fruit and vegetables or ones with yogurt (which are really his jam).

And the pouches have always been an easy way for him to get a snack, both quickly and with little mess. We’ve got the pouches on automatic refill through Amazon, and a supply just shows up on the first of each month.

But lately, the pouches have become a thing. Not a thing for Jameson, but a thing for me. What was once just a quick snack in my mind has turned into much more. Nowadays, I’ll screw off the top of the pouch, hand it to Jameson, and he’ll hold it with his two little grubby hands and look up at me with Puss & Boots eyes, and I am pretty much reduced to a puddle of emotional mess. Continue Reading